The High Queen
by Augusta Almeda
Summary: Amaline Tagora was the first wife of the High King and great love of Hawkwing's life.Standing by him through a plague and several wars, she would live to become High Queen and meet a shocking end.R&R.
1. Amaline's Return

A slender young woman rounded the corner of the garden path. Long golden hair hung almost to her waist, framing a creamy-skinned face with astonishly green eyes. A long shawl, embroidered with flowers and vines with long pale blue fringe, was draped on her elbows. She made a good match to the perfection of the summer afternoon, surrounded by the flowers, the gently fluttering butterflies,and the sweet birdsong from the trees. A smile illuminated her face when she saw a tall, dark young man sitting on a carved stone bench, a clothbound book in his hands. Apart from being heir to the throne of Shandalle, Artur Paendrag Tanreall was also a poet, if a poet of only moderate skill. He looked up as if for inspiration, and his eyes fell on the young woman. Artur's mouth fell open in shock, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. " Ammy?" he asked increduosly. " You're Aes Sedai?" She nodded, and he gave a whoop and swept her off her feet into the air and whirled her around as she laughed and cried," Put me down, put me down!"

" It's wonderful to see you, Amaline!"he shouted jovially as her feet touched the ground again. She stumbled into him, and as much to his surprise as hers by his shocked look, he bent down and kissed her on the mouth. Stunned as she was-she'd never been kissed before-she did realize that she was kissing him back for one moment before he pulled away. " Sorry," he said awkwardly. " They say I'm _ta'veren_, but I never thought it would work on myself."

" It's all right, Artur," she said, a little shaken herself. " It's been a long time since you've seen me." Despite the difference in their positions, Artur had been her best friend when she was a girl-still was, really. None of her friends from the White Tower were anywhere near as dear to her as Artur.

" Seven bloody years," he mock-grumbled. " Seven years, for all that you wrote as often as you could. Was it as hard as you made it sound?"

" Harder, " she said, grimacing bleakly. " Necessary, yes, but a whole lot harder than the letters made it sound. They did everything short of kill me before they gave me this shawl." Artur touched the cream-colored fabric gently.

" Blue fringed..." he murmured. " You're Blue Ajah?" She nodded. Artur hesitated, something she'd never seen him do before. " Amaline...this won't change anything, will it? You won't go all Aes Sedai on me, will you?"

Amaline laughed. " Artur Paendrag, you should know better than that. You don't really think I'd let a little thing like being Aes Sedai come between us, do you? If it does change anything, it'll be because I bond you my Warder." On impulse she threw her arms around him. He was still the same Artur, and near him she felt like the same Amaline. 'Amaline Aes Sedai of the Blue Ajah' had been replaced at least temporarily by Lady Amaline Tagora. Quite suddenly, she felt Artur go rigid with shock. " What is it?"

Drawing back from her, he dropped to his knees. " Lady-mother." Whirling around, she dropped into the lowest curtsy she could manage to Queen Mailinde. The Queen, dark and beautiful for all her strong cheekbones and slightly too broad shoulders, surveyed them with a hint of amusement.

" Rise, both of you. I'm quite surprised at you, Artur, kneeling like a petitioner. And you, Amaline. You return to us at last. In Court you must act so, but in private, you know perfectly well you are as daughter to me, and the King." Her sharp black eyes fell on Amaline's shawl. " Indeed, if one of us should curtsy, it should be me. Must we call you Amaline Sedai now?"

Amaline managed a smile. How much had Mailinde saw? " Not Amaline Sedai. Never that. Here, I want to be-just Amaline, like always." The King and Queen had been like parents to her since the death of her own mother and father, primarily because of her friendship with Artur. Mailinde surprised her by embracing her warmly.

" Glad I am to hear it," Mailinde said as warmly. " I would not have liked to have lost you to the Tower, Amaline." She picked up Amaline's right hand, looking closely at her Great Serpent ring. " I have heard that the Amyrlin Seat says that a woman is sealed to the Tower when they put that ring on your finger. But you were sealed to us long before you went off to be Aes Sedai." The words seemed to have a secret meaning, just between her and the Queen. Mailinde turned to her son. " Artur, I would ask you to remain here for a moment. You can have Amaline back in a minute. There are matters just for women I must speak to her of."

Artur grinned, back to himself. Mailinde obviously hadn't seen them kissing, so there was nothing to fear. " You have your women's talk. I'll just sit here and think about the lines to a new poem for Amaline's coming back until you finish, Mother." Mailinde nodded to Amaline and began walking. Amaline fell into step with her without fear of rebuke. What could Mailinde have to say that she wouldn't say in front of Artur? She knew they told each other everything anyway.

" I saw," Mailinde said simply. Amaline started to explain, but Mailinde held up a hand to stall her. It was only then she saw that Mailinde was smiling. "Absence, Amaline, often makes the heart grow fonder. Sometimes much fonder. I am of the suspicion that if we cared to go through the boxes of Artur's poetry that he doesn't show anyone, a good many could possibly be interpreted as referring to you."

Amaline gasped as she realized what Mailinde meant. " Surely you don't believe Artur has feelings for me?"

Mailinde smiled again. " You are Aes Sedai, but still a child in some ways. There is not a letter of yours he doesn't keep, and he spent hours and many drafts on each reply. When you said you were coming home, Artur was ecstatic. I myself do not believe that him kissing you was some random possibility of him twisting the Pattern, Amaline. Often the...effects...of a _ta'veren_ on people is simply what they wish to do even if they don't know they want to do it. " The Queen kissed her on the forehead like a mother. " You have my approval and consent, which means you also have my husband's. Shandalle will not only need Artur for her King when he aceeds to the throne-she will need a Queen. " Mailinde left her then, more confused than she had ever been in her life. Artur, in love with her? Composing her face, she hurried back to him.

" What'd Mother want?" Artur asked curiously. "It's upset you, whatever it is. You never could hide what you were thinking from me."

She cursed mentally. Artur could read her too well. " Mailinde saw you kiss me. And she approves." Artur's mouth fell open.

" Approves? Blood and ashes! Approves of _what_?"

" Mailinde thinks you have...certain feelings towards me that aren't exactly...brotherly."

" She thinks I love you," he said flatly. " Like a wife. Mother thinks I want to marry you, and she approves."

Amaline made herself meet Artur's eyes. _This is Artur,_ she reminded herself._ You can tell him anything. You can ask him anything. He's your best friend, for Light's sake! Just ask! _" Is she right?" She held her breath, not altogether sure what she wanted his answer to be.

Artur looked her straight in the eye. " I don't know," he admitted. " I don't know, Amaline. I just don't know. Sometimes I think about you in a different way, but then sometimes just like always. Blood and _bloody_ ashes, I don't even really know what being in love is, so how can I tell if I am? Oh, Light, I prayed you'd never ask me that. Whatever I answered, I was sure it would be the wrong answer, and I'd lose you as a friend-or anything else-forever. Please tell me I was wrong. This is one time I _want_ you to tell me I'm wrong, Ammy."

She smiled shakily and reached out to touch his cheek. He seemed rather startled by it. " You're wrong. No matter what else I am to you, I'll be your friend as long as you live and after, Artur. And you didn't answer wrong either, because I didn't know what I _wanted_ you to say."

He caught her hand. " Mother's planning to have a ball to welcome you home. Will you dance with me?"

She smiled again. " With you and no one else." Blushing, she kissed him on the cheek. He looked surprised. " I have to go see my sister, but I'll come to your apartments after dinner and we can catch up. All right?"

Artur smiled back, with more than a little relief in it. " See you then." Reluctantly, she left her friend and went to find Nynaeve. It had been almost ten years since she had seen her younger sister, after all.

Authoress's notes: I'm attempting to write out the history of Artur Hawkwing through a series of short stories. The Guide says that it was 'certain' Amaline was not Aes Sedai, but the Guide also says lots of info was lost in the War of the Hundred Years, so I'm playing on the some-of-this-is-wrong-because-of-lost-records-and-mistranslations theory. The beside the name Nynaeve referrs to the fact that it is NOT anything to do with Nynaeve Mandragoran of the WOT series. I'm guessing the name came from a story in Nynaeve Mandragoran's case, and it's sort of likely that the sister of the High Queen-or at least her name-could get in a story.


	2. A Proposal at a Masque

Disclaimer: Robert Jordan owns Shandalle, Aes Sedai, Amaline Tagora, Artur Paendrag, Queen Mailinde, King Myrdin, the Power, Agelessness, the title First Selector, the White Tower, the Blue Ajah, the Pit of Doom, and anything else you recognize from the Wheel of Time that I didn't catch to put in. I own Seria and Dorinda. Enjoy!

Amaline Tagora laughed like a girl as her hairpins fell out and her long hair went tumbling down her back during the masque. Queen Mailinde had meant for this to be a formal event, but it was rapidly falling into more of a play-fight than a scripted, rehearsed, dignified court entertainment. Catching a glimse of the Queen, herself one of the performers, throwing flowers at King Myrdin and giggling furiously, it was obvious she didn't care and was having as much fun as everyone else.

Only Seria, the grimmest of the Ladies-in-Waiting, kept to the script, reciting her lines. No one paid her the slightest heed. Except, of course, Artur, looking for at least one practical joke he could pull off during this. While Seria was still reciting the sonnet the bewitched captive Princesses said when the Princes came to rescue them, Artur grabbed one of the few buckets of rosewater that no one had thrown yet and proceeded to throw the contents exactly so that Seria was thorougly drenched from the top of her head to halfway down her skirts. Seria's squawk of outrage was drowned by the merriment all around her. Amaline threw a bouquet of lilies at him, and he caught it, for all that that went against the script entirely. Of course, now that Seria was in a tizzy about being wet an act too early, no one at all was paying any attention to the script. He threw a red rose back, and she tucked into her hair above her right ear.

The mock-battle of flowers and rosewater went on for some time, then the Princesses, the spell broken by the fact that no one bothered to remember their lines or the chief villain, decended to dance with their heroes-even Seria. Artur immediatly claimed her, as usual. They had been courting even while remaining best friends for two years. The Agelessness had made her features almost unrecognizable, but no one ever mistook her; only one woman in Shandalle would ever be seen on Artur's arm, and that was Amaline Tagora Aes Sedai. At the moment, Amaline Tagora Aes Sedai wondered if the floaty lavender-blue dress she wore to portray Beauty in the masque had been permanently ruined, even beyond the help of the Power. As if he had been reading her mind, Artur leaned down and whispered, "You look beautiful. My mother knew what she was doing, making you Beauty."

" Oh, hush," she said back, but she was smiling. Aes Sedai dignity be hanged. Agelessness or no agelessness, anyone who saw her would know she was actually young, not just young-seeming, and she was going to enjoy herself.

" Want to get out of here, Ammy?"

" Well enough by me. Lead on, Sir Loyal Heart!" Giggling like a pair of children stealing cookies under Nurse's nose, they slipped out the side door into the garden. " You do realize what everyone's going to think we're doing, don't you?"

" Who cares?"

" Mailinde, maybe?"

" Oh, Mother," he said casually, waving his mother's disapproval away. " She actually told me to do this. I must say that I agree with her. It feels-right."

" Right?" she asked, half-teasing. " Right for what?"

Artur was pointedly not looking at her. " Right for-asking you something."

She smiled, carefully putting and holding on an expressionless gambler's mask. Her heart was pounding to beat a hundred horses galloping. There was very little that could mean, and if it meant what she thought it meant...

" Ask me what?" she asked, barely above a whisper.

He stopped walking, but he didn't give her a straight answer. " Well, you know we've been-er-more than friends for a while, Ammy," he said carfully.

There was no doubt where this was leading. " Yes."

" I'm not quite sure how to put it-you know where I'm going with this, Ammy-what I want to ask you-don't you?"

" I think I know what you mean."

He looked at her accusingly. " You're not going to make this easy for me, are you? Don't answer that-it was a rhetorical question. All right, if you want traditional, I'll bloody well give you traditional." He reached into his breast pocket and she saw something glitter. Oh, Light, he was really going to ask her-she could feel her heart hammering so hard in her throat that she wasn't sure she'd be able to speak. She knew perfectly well what that glitter had been-Mailinde's betrothal ring from Myrdin. Tears gathered in her eyes, but she kept them from falling by sheer effort of will. This was very like taking the test for Aes Sedai again, only the star was not appearing, there was no weave to perform, and there was nothing to stop her from answering exactly as she wanted to. She heard the old First Selector of her Ajah, Dorinda Sedai, telling her that Blue sisters abstained from marriage. To the Pit of Doom with custom. She would give up the Tower if she had to. With a look on his face that suggested he was screwing up every bit of courage he had in him, Artur knelt before her. He was white as a sheet. Amaline could see that his hands were shaking visibly-the shifting sparkle of the ring gave it away. Artur wasn't sure of her answer, and knew it would be the end for him if she said no.

" Am-" he started, choked, and started over. " Amaline Tagora," he managed unsteadily. " Will-Will you marry me?"

Artur had said it-he had finally said it. She could feel her throat closing up. She knew what she wanted to say, but she wasn't sure she could talk at all. Artur was watching her face with desperate hope. She grasped his hand and smiled painfully. "Artur- I don't know what to say-"

" You could always say yes," Artur suggested.

" I could," she said. " In fact, there's not much else I can say, so...Yes!" He stood and put the ring on her finger-what had the chances been that she and Mailinde would have the same ring size?-simultaneously, and she threw her arms around him, weeping for joy.

Authoress's Note: This isn't entirely original. I got the idea for the masque, with the captive princesses and the princes fighting with rosewater and flowers and the women representing virtues, from a famous masque in the 1500's where Henry VIII supposedly first took notice of either Mary or Anne Boleyn. In every piece I've read, the same masque took place in the same building, so I think it might have actually happened, though I have no clue which sister Henry danced with, if either. I've read two that say Anne, and one that says Mary. But that was what gave me the idea for the masque. Sorry about the two missing years where Artur courted Amaline and she became established at Court and Ageless and all that-I really just couldn't think of anything, and I'm basically telling the major events in detail and just summarizing the rest. The other chapters should be much closer together than two years, though probably not day-to-day. I've got it worked out through the ending, so hang in there! Thanks for reading!

Augusta


	3. Nothing More Was Needed

Disclaimer: I own no one and nothing in this chapter besides Jonrai.

Amaline drew a deep breath and smoothed her skirts for the millionth time. Now was not the time to panic. Glancing to her right, she could see that Artur was looking distinctly pale too, and it gave her some heart.

She could scarcely believe that it had been two weeks since he proposed and she had accepted. In fact, she still couldn't believe that he had proposed and she had accepted at all. Now, she was facing the doors to the Throne Room. King Myrdin and Queen Mailinde waited on their thrones for the audience their son had requested, and once Artur and Amaline walked through those doors, there was no turning back and the decision was out of _their_ hands and in his parents's. If they refused to give their blessing...but there was no reason for them to. Artur had said that Mailinde had actually given him the nudge that during the masque would be the proper time to propose. Amaline knew all that, but it didn't do much to dispell her nervousness.

Artur took her hand in his and attempted a smile. " It'll be well, Ammy," he reassured her. " No reason for them to object, every reason for them to agree. We get on well, you come from a good family, your father'll be able to round up a halfway decent dowry if he has to, and your family would be mad to object to you being Queen-" he seemed to realize he was babbling and stopped. " Ready?" he asked instead.

She attempted a smile. " As ready as I'm going to get. Let's do it." She held out her hand. "Secret handshake."

Artur grinned at the memory from their childhood. " You still remember that?"

" Of course. Aes Sedai aren't called wise and all-knowing for nothing, you know." They laughed at her joke, and performed the childhood ritual. The door guards and heralds were giving them strange looks, but they didn't care. Artur offered her his arm, she took it, and he nodded to the guards and heralds. The doors were flung open, and Jonrai, Artur's personal herald, announced them, with fanfares from the King and Queen's heralds. Myrdin's voice echoed slightly as he gave permission to enter, and, trembling, Amaline walked into the Throne Room with Artur, her head held high.

" What is it you wish to speak to us about, my son?" Myrdin asked Artur, ignoring Amaline entirely.

Artur cleared his throat and paused before he started. " I have found a woman I wish to marry, Lord-Father."

" Who is this woman?"

" Amaline Tagora, Lord-Father."

" May I assume that the woman with you is the said Amaline Tagora?"

" She is, Lord-Father."

Myrdin surveyed her cooly. She knew his chilliness was all part of the elaborate maze of royal protocol-the King was really very fond of her, quite paternal since the deaths of her parents when she was a child-but it still made her feel like a Sharan cricket under observation. The only thing to do in times like that, she had discovered in the Tower, was to hold your head up and stand straighter than ever. " You are Aes Sedai, are you not, Lady Amaline?"

" I am, my lord." The cool levelness of her tone surprised even her. She saw a flicker of approval in Myrdin's eyes. " Amaline Aes Sedai of the Blue Ajah."

" The Blue Ajah is known for producing mistress manipulators," he returned. " How am I to know that you are not manipulating my son's feelings to forward your own ends?"

" Aes Sedai cannot lie," she countered. " I will tell you, and by the First Oath you know it for truth. I am manipulating no one. I have no hidden agenda. I love Prince Artur, and for no other reason do I desire to become his wife."

" The crown interests you not?"

" No. The only thing that interests me is the man himself, not his title, or his money, or his prospects."

" You have considered that, as Princess of Shandalle, you will be expected to remain here instead of returning to the White Tower?"

" I have. If marrying Artur means never setting foot in the White Tower again, then so be it."

" Have you thought of the consequences your sisters could call down on your head?"

" Let them. I know what it is I am putting on the line, my lord. I know what is at stake. I am prepared-more than prepared-to face whatever is thrown at me. As I said, I love him." Artur's hand tightened convulsively on hers. She had never actually told him to his face that she loved him; she would have to remedy that as soon as they were out of here.

Myrdin gave her a long look, but then his handsome features relaxed into a smile. " I agree," he said. " If the Queen gives her permission, then it shall be. You have my blessing."

Queen Mailinde had been staring fixedly at nothing the whole time, and she continued to do so as she spoke. " Love is a fine thing," she said calmly, " but, in a royal marriage, it is not always enough. If you marry Artur, you will one day be Queen of Shandalle. You may think of this as little more than broodmare duty, young as you are, but there is far more to being a queen than bearing children. You must be able to make sacrifices that will tear the heart from you. You must be able to smile and put on a masquerade of serenity while you are dying inside. You must be able to be courteous, gracious, and impartial to all, even those you hate. You must be politically skilled and tactful. You have been of my Court since you were seven years old, with five years away at the Tower. You've seen up-close what it takes to be in my shoes, Amaline. If the King and I were to die the day you and Artur were wed, would you be able to take my place?"

This was a reply that would have to be handled with skill. " None could ever take your place in the hearts of the people, Majesty, and I doubt that I could be as good and wise a monarch if I took the throne tomorrow. No, I know I could not match you. How can a girl of twenty-four expect to equal a woman with years of expirience? But I learned all the lessons you speak of long ago, both here in Court and in the White Tower. A good deal of being Aes Sedai is very like being a queen. I could meet all the challenges you listed, Majesty."

Mailinde smiled. The Queen had perhaps the most beautiful smile that Amaline had ever seen, though actually seeing it was rare. " I agree," she said briskly. " You have my blessing." Her smile widened. " As Myrdin and I are in agreement, I suppose the next thing is planning a wedding!"

" One step at a time, love," Myrdin said indulgently-Mailinde had ever been excited by the prospect of a wedding, if Amaline's memory was any good. " First the announcement, then the betrothal ceremonies and feast, and we'll have to-" he broke off. " You can go," he told Artur and Amaline. They made their reverences and left as Myrdin and Mailinde began to discuss the wedding energetically.

They walked together down the hall in silence for a while, then Amaline turned to Artur. "Artur?"

" Hmmm?"

" I know I've not said it before, but...I love you."

He stopped and looked at her. " I love you too, Ammy," he said simply. Nothing more was needed. She smiled, and leaned forward a little, and he kissed her. They resumed walking without further comment. No need to ruin it with unecessary words. Nothing more was needed.

Authoress's Note: Well, that went better than I expected. I was expecting it to turn out really awkward. The next chapter should be up inside the week-the attack of the writer's block hasn't hit me on this one yet. As for the whole 'Sharan cricket' thing, I was thinking about the expression 'Indian cricket' when I wrote it. Shara and India are both exotic lands of mystery, so I decided to take the liberty. Hope you enjoyed this chapter and will come back for the next one!

Augusta


	4. Whatever Works, Right?

Author's Note: Ok, so it's been longer than I said it would be. My life is crazy, and not exactly accomodating. Here's the next chapter anyway. Disclaimer: I own nothing, to the best of my knowledge, besides Dorinda, Loriana, Miena, Seline,Ceyla, Loma, and Warder Herodan. Augusta

_Oh, Light!_ Amaline thought. _I'm in for it now!_

Dorinda, the Head of her Ajah, was seated straight across from her, wearing her shawl. The three Sitters, also shawled, made a half-moon behind Dorinda. Behind their Aes Sedai calm, they were all only too obviously displeased, maybe even angry. " Amaline, child," Dorinda said gently-she said everything gently, even while angry-" surely you must understand why we're upset with you."

Loriana snorted loudly. The Moireinan woman was no kind of lady. " Upset with her? We ought to drag her back to Tar Valon by her hay-colored hair and thrash some sense into her! And a double dose for that Miena who was put to telling her Ajah customs, too!"

" Loriana!" Seline said sharply. " Foolish though Amaline may have been, and unreliable as Miena may have been, they are our sisters. We can't just have them strapped like a pair of foolhardy novices!"

" Don't see why not, if they act like fool novices," Loriana grumbled, but subsided. If Amaline hadn't been so worried about what was going to happen to her, she would have thought it was funny-Loriana was a huge, sturdy woman as strong as most men, and Seline was tiny, frail-looking, and pale as a ghost, but strength in the Power was what established the pecking order among Aes Sedai.

The third Sitter, Ceyla, tried a different approach. " Perhaps we should let Amaline try to explain herself," she said nervously. She had only been elected Sitter a few weeks ago, and wasn't yet comfortable with being too open around Loriana and Seline.

" I agree," Dorinda said firmly. " Amaline, you knew that the Ajah disapproves of sisters marrying. Why did you accept young Tanreall?"

" I love him." There was little she could do to soften that into Aes Sedai proportions. Loriana was gaping at her with horror. " But there are reasons that could be beneficial to the Ajah," she said quickly. " One day, I would be Queen of Shandalle. It's been a long time since there was an Aes Sedai queen. For the Blue to have a sister on a throne would give advantage in the Hall, maybe enough to counter anything the Reds could throw out. And for the political possibilities..." she trailed off. She got the impression she had made an impression, but there was no visible sign of it. Still, they were listening. " Besides," she said, half-afraid and half-defiant, " there's nothing you can do to stop me."

Loriana gasped with horror, but Amaline was sure the corners of Dorinda's mouth twitched. " True," she said. " Very good, Amaline. Legally, we can't do the first thing to stop you. But we could throw you out, of the Ajah or the Tower, as we pleased. It would not be difficult."

Amaline had to swallow hard before she spoke. " Do it, then, if you want to. I've made up my mind. I'm going to marry him."

" You have a backbone," Dorinda said with a brisk nod. " I like that. Go along now, child, while we discuss this." She turned to the Sitters and started whispering as Amaline walked out the door.

Artur's worried eyes searched her face when she walked into his parlour. " How did it go, Ammy? What did the Sisters say?"

Amaline shook her head. " They're discussing what to do with me," she said with a touch of bitterness. " As if I were a child, or unable to make up my own mind or care for myself. Worst case scenario, they take me back to Tar Valon, have me birched and set a penance for the rest of the current Amyrlin's reign if not longer. If I'm lucky-if _we're_ lucky-the prospect of having a Blue for Queen of Shandalle will be too much for them to resist and they'll name me a guardian to ensure that I behave appropriatly and manipulate me like a puppet."

" When the Pit of Doom freezes over," Artur snapped. He had a temper, sometimes. " No one threatens you or anything of the like while I'm breathing, and I don't care if it's the Amyrlin in her stole with the whole bloody Hall behind her!"

" If Dorinda and the others use the Power-" she broke off suddenly, then laughed with delight. " That's it!" she cried triumphantly. " I've got it, Art-I've worked it out! Aren't you good with a sword?"

" Good enough," he said, overmodestly. " My old Swordsmaster was a Warder-my Aunt Loma's an Aes Sedai."

" Good enough." She giggled, clapping a hand over her mouth to hide the sound. " You, m'love, are about to be a Warder."

"Come again?"

" I'm going to bond you my Warder. It's virtually airtight-no halfway sane sister would even suggest separating me from my Warder, and you're shackled here by your crown. What d'you think?"

Artur laughed. " Old Herodan would die of shock at the very idea, but whatever works, right?"

The weave was among the most complex known to Aes Sedai. It took most of Amaline's training in concentration to master it, but she felt fairly sure she did it right. When she was done, Artur asked, " Did it work?"

" Think about something, something you feel strongly about." He simply looked at her, and she instantly recognized the second set of emotions besides her own as a blend of love and complete trust. She smiled. " It worked, love. It worked very well indeed."

Dorinda and the Sitters looked shocked to say the least when Amaline walked back in without waiting for permission, Artur with her. " I'm afraid, Sisters, that the matter of what is to be done with me is closed," she said calmly, fighting down a smile and keeping her face blankly pleasant. " As you all know, it is considered most inappropriate to separate a sister from her Warder, and the Prince is mine."

Loriana fainted dead away.

Author's Note: That went better than I expected. Sorry if some of the language isn't quite archaic enough; I try, but I make slips and the WOT books certainly don't use medieval language in them. I'm working on the next chapter, but it may be delayed because of work-by-request on my other piece, Bethamin's Tale. Thanks for reading!

Augusta


	5. Bonwhin's Visit

Author's Note: Due to a request, Hawkwing lives again! Now, however, the story will be divided into three parts: TheHighQueen, Murder Most Royal, and The Shadow Queen. We're currently still in TheHigh Queen. Enjoy, and see my profile for summaries of Murder Most Royal and The Shadow Queen and some other projects!

Augusta.

" Betsa, hold this pincushion for me" the red-faced seamstress shouted, thrusting a pincushion at her nervous little apprentice. Leaning over and muttering about her back, the woman began pinning up the hem of Amaline's wedding gown. " Oh, I hate time" the woman groaned. " Every bit of it that passes makes my bones a little stiffer and brings the time I've got to have this dress done a little closer. "

" Don't remind me" Amaline whispered, remembering that the wedding was only a week away.

" Wedding jitters" The workaday seamstress asked sympathetically, her aching bones quite forgotten in the gossip she would have for the other Palace servants tonight. " Well, dearie, it could be worse. At least our Prince Artur isn't old, ugly, or cruel."

" Yes, and it's a woman's greatest fortune if she doesn't end up with a husband who's all three" Amaline retorted, more sharply than she intended to.

" That's why you'll never hear me say I wish to be a lady" the seamstress said stoutly. " Regular women can marry who they want, not like you ladies. You ladies aren't nothing but bargaining chips on the table, dearie."

" I am not a bargaining chip" Amaline snapped. " I chose this for myself."

" Aye, you're Aes Sedai" the seamstress said knowledgably. " Makes you different from other ladies, but you should've seen the last lady I did a wedding dress for. Poor liddle thing, crying her eyes out, perfectly miserable." The seamstress seemed to get some kind of pleasure out of that.

" Will you please just finish fitting my dress" Amaline asked.

Half an hour later Amaline gratefully left the woman and headed towards her own apartments, feeling mentally drained. People stepped aside for her in hallways as if she was Crown Princess already. The other ladies in attendance on the Queen curtsied as low for her as they did for Mailinde. Aes Sedai or no Aes Sedai, it was hardly something Lady Amaline Tagora from a tiny landholding in southern Shandalle was used to. The closer she came to being a princess, the more she started to feel like simple Lady Amaline and the less she began to feel like Aes Sedai. She loved the Tower, but not the way some did. She had made her choice-she loved Artur more than she loved Tar Valon.

When she reached the apartments that had been given to her-again, the whole Palace seemed to be a bit ahead of themselves in treating her like she was already their princess- another woman was seated in her chair by the fire waiting on her. Dark-haired and tall, she was dressed entirely in a brilliant scarlet that hurt the eyes. " I don't suppose I should be surprised to find you in this position, Amaline" she said coldly, looking up. Amaline found herself staring into a familiar pair of dark eyes.

" Bonwhin" Amaline asked, startled. She hadn't seen the Red Sitter in over a year now, and could think of no reason why Bonwhin Meraighdin would be here.

" None other" Bonwhin said grimly, her hard-edged Basharandan accent grating on the ears. " I'm not here for a social call-I never did like you, Amaline. I'm here on White Tower business. Our Mother the Amyrlin Seat is dead." Amaline gasped and Bonwhin nodded. " Yes, a tragedy." Bonwhin didn't seem to find it very tragic at all, but Amaline held her peace. " She's been dead for over a week, but I could hardly expect that news would have reached this place." The Red made a dismissive gesture.

" What's that supposed to mean" Amaline demanded, immediately on the defense for her homeland. The larger powers tended to look down on Shandalle for its size and lack of importance, a thing that had gotten her into more than one fight with Aldesharan girls when she was a novice.

" Amaline, my dear, this is the smallest and stupidest Court in the world in the smallest and stupidest nation in the world" Bonwhin said with a laugh. "Nothing happens in Shandalle. No one worth mentioning lives in Shandalle. If you want to be a queen, then I will see to marrying you to a proper king-Elsalam, maybe, or Aldeshar if I can wangle it-but I will not see an Aes Sedai wasted on the throne of Shandalle."

" And who gave you the Weaving of the Pattern" Amaline shot back. " I am not a novice anymore, Bonwhin. I have decided to marry Artur Paendrag and I will marry him."

" I told you the Amyrlin was dead" Bonwhin said. " Don't you have any interest in who her successor is"

The truth hit Amaline like a sledghammer. " No."

" Yes. The deliberations are still going on, of course, but I have been banned from the Hall for all of them. I am going to be the next Amyrlin Seat, and you are going to do as you are told." Bonwhin smiled, a wolverine's smile in the dead of winter. " You are going to go on playing the happy little lover to our Pauper Prince until the wedding, Amaline. Then you are going to leave him at the very altar, humiliating him and this whole stupid country in front of the world. "

" I won't do it" Amaline managed. " I won't! I don't care if you are the Amyrlin or the Queen of Paradise, Bonwhin, I will not do this! He's my Warder as well as my betrothed."

" Oh? A pity. I suppose I'll have to kill him, then." Bonwhin mentioned murdering a Crown Prince as nochalantly as she would have mentioned getting a new gown for a ball.

" Try it" Amaline said, embracing the Source. She was stronger than Bonwhin, Sitter or no Sitter. Bonwhin looked momentarily shocked.

" You fool" she hissed. " Artur Paendrag Tanreall isn't worth being cast out of the Tower as a renegade. It's loverling or the shawl, Amaline, and as I have never heard of you being mad, there should be no debate."

" May I ask what is going on here" _Artur!_ Amaline thought, nearly fainting with relief. He managed to put himself between her and Bonwhin without it being obvious that he was sheltering her from the Red. "I recieved the strangest impression that you were plotting to kill me, my lady-Bonwhin, isn't it"

" Bonwhin Aes Sedai, Amyrlin Apparent" Bonwhin said haughtily. " I am here on White Tower business, boy, and you'd be wise to stand out of my way. Amaline here has badly offended both me and the Tower and I thought it best to come myself to inform her of the consequences if she persists in her willfull disobedience." Bonwhin clearly expected Artur to be thoroughly chastened and frightened by her, as he was just a 'country bumpkin'. Amaline could see and feel that the woman couldn't be more wrong. She recalled the words he had spoken when he heard that Dorinda and the Sitters were planning to take her away from him:_No one threatens you or anything of the like while I'm breathing, and I don't care if it's the Amyrlin in her stole with the whole bloody Hall behind her! _Bonwhin had miscalculated badly when she thought she could run roughshod over Artur Paendrag.

Remarkably, Artur did not lose his temper immediately. " I fear there has been a misunderstanding, Madam" he said courteously. " Amaline is no longer answerable to the White Tower by Shandallan law. I'll be happy to show you the records if you don't believe me."

" No ruler has ever held their throne very long without the Tower's benovelence" Bonwhin said cooly. " I don't generally think very much of men, but you've got a backbone, Tanreall. Let her go and I'll see to it that Shandalle prospers for as long as you are king."

" And if I don't" Artur's voice was still perfectly level.

" Then I'll see you and her both ruined" Bonwhin said flatly.

A silence that lasted forever stretched between the three of them, then Artur's face hardened and he looked like a king indeed. Amaline had never seen him look like that before. " Get out" he said in a tone that brooked no argument.

" I am Aes Sedai of the Red Ajah" Bonwhin returned. " I obey no man."

" You have two options, _Aes Sedai._ You can get out or I will have you thrown out."

" I have the Power. I would like to see the man who can forcibly remove me from a room when I do not wish to go."

Artur laughed mirthlessly. " Try me, Sister, and you'll regret it."

" This isn't over" Bonwhin said warningly. " It'll never be over until both of you are on your knees before the White Tower's mercy." She whirled on her heel and marched out.

"Thank the Light you came in when you did" Amaline said, her voice shaking as badly as her knees. " She frightens me, Artur, and she'll be the Amyrlin...I'm Aes Sedai,and Bonwhin's going to be the Amyrlin...oh, Light, I'm a renegade now..." she started to cry despite her best efforts not to.

Artur took her in his arms and held her head against his shoulder. " Let Bonwhin do her worst. She'll find out that Shandalle's too tough a mouthful for her to chew if she does, and she'll find that I don't go back on my word." He had meant the words to be reassuring, but Amaline shivered involuntarily at the implications of that.


	6. The Ring and the Crown

Author's Note-Well, they're finally getting married! The rest of this particular narrative has finally fallen into place and I finally know most of what has to happen to Amaline and Artur before the beginning of _Murder Most Royal_. I should be able to update this more frequently, but I'm making no promises, as I'm also working on around four other pieces. Enjoy!

Augusta

Disclaimer:I own nothing in this chapter to the best of my knowledge. Check the Guide if you want to verify it.

_Don't panic,_ Amaline told herself, panicking. _Now is not the time to panic. Oh, Light, I'm panicking._

"Remember, Amaline, what I told you about-" Mailinde broke off from her lecture to give Amaline a concerned look. "Are you all right, child?" _Only Mailinde would call an Aes Sedai 'child',_ Amaline thought irrelevantly.

"Perfectly all right," she said weakly. "I'm just more afraid than I've ever been in my life."

The day all of Shandalle had been waiting for with bated breath had finally arrived, the day Prince Artur married the Lady Amaline Tagora Aes Sedai. Amaline had been as delighted as anyone until she woke this morning and the full weight of the day hit her. Now she thought she'd die of terror. From what impressions she occasionally got through the bond, Artur wasn't in much better shape, but his fear was of another sort. He was afraid that, even now, she might leave him. Bonwhin's visit had shaken him, taking away the stability of his firm belief in Amaline's very devotion. She couldn't bear the thought of him thinking that the Tower meant more to her, but at that moment she wanted to run back to Tar Valon as fast as she could and throw herself into the Mistress of Novices's arms. Calmyn Sedai might not have beeen there, but Mailinde was, and Mailinde was giving Amaline her rare, glorious smile.

"Of course you are," Mailinde said soothingly. "I'd think you were unnatural or mad if you weren't, Amaline. I was shaking so hard everyone assembled could see when I married Myrdin, and later he asked me if I had taken a fever! Every girl is afraid on her wedding day. The next time you'll be this afraid is when your first child is born. Why do you think I only had Artur? I thought it was like that every time, but my ladies assure me that it isn't quite as harrowing after the first time."

"Please, Mailinde, don't talk to me about children. Let's get past the wedding first."

Mailinde laughed. "Child, child, I am going to be your mother-in-law in less than an hour. I reserve my right to badger you and embarrass you, dearest. You are the daughter I never had."

"Thank you, Mailinde. You just helped me make a very hard decision." Quickly, before she could change her mind, Amaline took off her Great Serpent ring and slipped it up her sleeve. "The Amyrlin lost her rights as my mother when she tried to make me leave Artur," she said, responding to the unspoken question in Mailinde's eyes. "You have taken her place and that of my own mother, Mailinde." She embraced the older woman compulsively and was surprised when Mailinde held her for a moment.

"I am sorry that you are forced to give up what you worked so many years for, Amaline," the queen said quietly.

"Don't be. It was my choice, Mother. To give my support to Bonwhin would be a betrayal of everything I hold dear-I could never bring myself to call her Mother, never mind do as she asked me to do."

"Artur was more distraught that you know when that witch left," Mailinde replied. "It took days before I could convince him that you were no reed in the wind, to bend at the slightest push. Don't prove me wrong, Amaline."

"I won't, I swear it, and I cannot lie." They both laughed, if a little shakily. Even if Amaline had renounced the Tower, the Three Oaths still bound her.

Mailinde smoothed her hair and fussed with her gown for a moment. "Well..." the queen started brushing off imaginary dust motes from Amaline's veil. "I suppose we had better be going along, Amaline."

Amaline swallowed hard. "Yes. I-I suppose we should. We must not keep everyone waiting."

Amaline was painfully aware that every eye in the Great Hall was on her and her maids-in-attendance as she made her way up through the gathering of nobles. Approximately half of them switched to Artur when she finally, after what seemed like half a lifetime, reached the front. Artur attempted to smile, and Amaline attempted to smile back, hoping her effort wasn't as pathetic as his. Myrdin was making a speech-he did love to make speeches. The thought darted through her head and was gone. Thinking was not an easy thing to do.

The vows were mercifully simple, brief oaths of faithfullness and honor and loyalty to each other and Shandalle-even in a wedding ceremony, matters of state could not be forgotten for the Prince and almost-Princess. Amaline's hands were shaking visibly. Artur seemed most reluctant to meet her eyes, meaning he noticed the missing Great Serpent. _Ring?_ he mouthed.

_Later,_ she mouthed back, then turned her attention to Myrdin-_Father-in-law, now, _she reminded herself. He was speaking to the crowd.

"This day is of great importance not only to the Royal Family, but to Shandalle itself," the King said, a slightly sentimental catch in his voice only those who knew him well would have caught. "This country is now assured a queen in the future as well as in the present." Myrdin paused and gazed around the Hall. "Some, however, would say that a woman cannot become a queen without first being a princess. We of Shandalle are famous for our ability to improvise, are we not?"

He smiled warmly, his dark eyes alight with mischief. It was easy to forget, sometimes, that Artur got his humor from his father. "Amaline is not a princess, so I will make her one." There were titters among the courtiers, but Amaline knew that Myrdin's light tone was a mask for deadly seriousness. Mailinde approached Myrdin carrying a cushion with a simple coronet on it, the same she had worn as the youngest of the nine Moreinan princesses when she came north to marry Myrdin. She made the tiny curtsy of queen to king as he took the coronet and placed it on Amaline's head. A tense silence lingered until Myrdin broke it. "I believe now would be the correct time for you all to give your respects to my daughter-in-law, the Princess Amaline Paendrag Tagora of Shandalle." A shocked murmur ran through the assmebly. Never before had any woman not born of royal blood been called princess, but the King was demanding that they all adknowledge that ranks as belonging to a woman whose birth would not have caused most of them to give her the time of day.

One by one, with varying degrees of unwillingness, they did it, each kneeling or curtsying and murming the standard, "Light bless you, Princess." Amaline found herself administering the return blessing in the time-honored and half-forgotten manner of an Aes Sedai. Hot anger flashed in the eyes of the White Tower emissary, a young Red sister, at that, and Amaline smiled calmly back at her. She no longer feared the Tower's wrath. Not even Myrdin himself could take back the rank that he had conferred on her. Even if she was never crowned queen, she would be a princess until she died and there was nothing Bonwhin or anyone else could do to change that. She was safe again, safe in her rank and in the knowledge of her husband's love for her, and she would never give into fear again.


	7. The Black Fever

Author's Note: Once again, there is a gap of more than a few days between chapters. I apologize profusely, but I really can't figure out anything of significance that happened between Artur and Amaline's wedding in FY 937 and the Black Fever epidemic of FY 939, and the events of this chapter symbolize the beginning of a new period in Amaline's life anyway. A quick word on event timing: in the guide, it states that Bonwhin ascended the Amyrlin Seat around FY 939 but in this story she states that she is about to be raised a week before Amaline marries Artur. I played on the 'around' part of it, since it's not really known when Bonwhin took the stole.

Amaline focused on her sewing as if her life depended on it. She knew she was making stitches an inch long but couldn't make herself care, not in the face of the things that palace walls and Artur's attempts to "protect her" could not hold out. She looked around the room with a kind of desperation. There were only four other women here now instead of the many who had once held places in the joint household of the Princess Amaline and Queen Mailinde. Most of them had died in the horrible waves of fever that had swept over Shandalle and the others had either been summoned home or went voluntarily, hoping to escape the terrible plague in the countryside.

King Myrdin was reportedly still clinging doggedly to life at one of the royal fortress-castles near the Tovan border while Queen Mailinde lay delirious in her chambers in the suite next to Amaline's. The physicians whispered that she would not live long, but never where Artur could hear, and Amaline didn't have the heart to confirm it herself. She had tried to Heal the Queen, but her abilities at Healing were so meager that she was only able to lessen Mailinde's suffering for a few hours. All requests to the Tower for a Yellow sister had been refused, even ignored but for one very cutting message from the Amyrlin stating that Shandallans were of no importance whatsover in comparison to those in other nations who the fever had laid low. In a fit of despair and rage towards Bonwhin after that arrived, Amaline had cursed the woman bitterly, voicing the wish that the other woman would meet a death far more horrific than that Mailinde and the other unfortunates suffered.

"My lady," a nervous-looking servant said, breaking in on Amaline's thoughts. "My lady, the Queen's calling for you."

"I will come." Amaline laid aside her sewing and tried to fix it in her mind that this was no harder than facing the trials she had endured in her tests for Accepted and Aes Sedai. Some of the ladies stirred slightly when she stood, and she made a small gesture to tell them to keep their seats and continue their work as she followed the servant out into the hall and through the next door.

Mailinde's chambers were, as always, filled with physicians from all over the country and their assistants, all talking quietly among themselves of the conditions of various patients and making their bows as Amaline passed them. Despite her best efforts to, she could not force herself to go into the darkened room where her mother-in-law endured the last stages of the Black Fever, clinging to the doorknob for a long moment as she tried to rally her defenses. Finally, with the greatest effort of will she had ever made in her life, Amaline entered the sickroom.

Mailinde's drawn, wasted face was almost the same ashen-grey as her faded hair. The Queen had only been ill for two weeks, but it had aged her fifteen years at least, turning her black hair grey and making her thin and gaunt. Her head turned slightly on her pillow towards Amaline and the younger woman had to fight to keep from bursting into tears when she saw a faint flicker of recognition in Mailinde's pain and fever-glazed eyes. "Child," the Queen whispered, barely a thread of sound making its way past her dry lips. Amaline offered her a small glass of water, but Mailinde shook her head weakly. "No need for that now," she managed. "There is not so very much left to be said."

"Hush, Mailinde," Amaline said, amazed that she could speak around the hard knot in her throat. "You shouldn't talk until you're stronger."

"I'm not going to be getting any stronger, Amaline. I've seen my fetch, as we say it in Moriena-my own ghost. It's over for me." Amaline felt Mailinde's fingers close tightly around her hand. "Child-take care of Artur for me. He's not...practical. Poets never are." There might have been a hint of a smile on Mailinde's mouth then; the dim light made it hard to tell.

"I will," Amaline gasped, her eyes burning with tears she knew she couldn't allow the Queen to see.

"Myrdin-where is Myrdin?" Mailinde stirred restlessly on her pillows. "Myrdin Paendrag Maregore, I'm going to have your hide for this one, leaving me here alone with a baby. No, I don't care if the Tovans are trying to invade, you had no right." Amaline shuddered at just how convinced Mailinde was that she was young again and Myrdin had went to negotiate peace treaties with the Tovans when Artur was still an infant. The Queen looked confused for a moment. "No, Myrdin, that's not right. You're supposed to be coronated today, Myrdin, you can't-Ah, Light!" Mailinde's breathing came hard and fast, as if she were afraid of something.

"Mailinde," Amaline said, hoping to recall the Queen from the past. "Mailinde, Myrdin isn't here."

She could tell that it hadn't done any good when Mailinde looked at her again. "Caltrine! Callie! Wonderful to see you, dear-I thought your husband would never let you back to Court-why, what a lovely little girl, Callie, what's her name? Amaline? That's a pretty name." Amaline's urge to cry grew even stronger when she realized that Mailinde was mistaking her for Caltrine Tagora Helmsol, Amaline's own long-dead mother.

"Mailinde, I'm not Caltrine. I'm Amaline. Remember?"

"Amaline," Mailinde murmured, her eyelids fluttering. "Such a pretty name..." the older woman was silent for a long moment. "You will make a fine queen, child," she whispered. "I should have liked to have seen my grandchildren." Mailinde was still breathing harshly and unevenly, but she did not speak again and after a while the Queen's chest ceased to rise and fall at all. Once the reality of her death set in, Amaline wordlessly drew her veil over her face and wept behind its pale shield.

It was some time before she could control her sobbing enough to face the physicians and servants with any semblance of dignity. Once they had been duly informed of the Queen's death, Amaline used the Warder bond to help her find Artur. She didn't have to say the words, because he took one look at her face and knew. "Mother's dead, isn't she?"

"Yes." Amaline had to fight not to lose control again. She had promised Mailinde she would take care of Artur, not add to his burdens.

"Dear Light," he managed after a while. "It's hard-hard to accept. I should be praying for her soul-"

"I know," Amaline whispered, then gave into impulse and went to him. They were still clinging to each other and weeping when a weary courier and a group of solemn nobles came upon them.

"My lord, my lady," the courier said. "I regret to inform you of the death of our most excellent sovereign lord, King Myrdin of Shandalle. Long live King Artur." The courier and the nobles knelt. Amaline started to draw back and follow suit, but Artur would not let her go.

"You are all I have left in the world now, Ammy," he whispered into her hair. "You're one person, at least, who will never bend knee to me."


End file.
